


Snuggle

by flinchflower



Series: Slash Me Twice [39]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-24
Updated: 2011-11-24
Packaged: 2017-10-26 12:31:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/283144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flinchflower/pseuds/flinchflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt 39: Fabric.  Dean, having mouthed off to John (is anyone surprised?) pays for his actions.  A family sort of fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snuggle

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not for profit, simply a writing exercise. Herein lies Dean/Sam slash, in an AU timeline where John did not lose his life. John appears in parental context only. Follows in series from previous prompts, but stands alone if preferred.

John’s out back with a beer, tossing pebbles into the small garden pond, and Jim takes a seat beside him.

“Johnny…”

“Damn it, Jim, what am I supposed to do? I let him off the hook after the hunt, after all, it was just a simple mistake, something training will fix. Then he’s got to go and cuss me out after a single training run?”

Jim lets a small chuckle escape, not surprised that John’s mistaken his intention. “I’d have done the same thing in your place, John. I just wouldn’t be sitting out here dwelling on it.”

“He’s twenty-eight years old, Jim, it’s not like he doesn’t know the consequences of mouthing off to me like that, not like I haven’t had him in the same position every time he’s done it since the first swearword dropped out of his mouth in my hearing.”

“I know.”

“I just… Sometimes I wonder if he’s doing it to get back at me for going undercover.”

“You might have something there, Johnny.”

They nod, and after a moment, Jim laughs. “You blistered his tail good for him.”

John looks surprised. “Please tell me you couldn’t hear that at the house.”

“No, but I sure heard him whimpering while he was drying off and getting dressed, muttering something about the towels.”

Jim meets the other man’s eyes, and they both begin to laugh together.

Inside, Dean’s not laughing. No, no, indeed. He’s rummaging through his duffel for a worn pair of jersey knit boxers, swearing under his breath. Sam chuckles behind him.

“What, you didn’t get enough from Dad earlier?”

Dean whirls to face his brother. “How the fuck did you know?”

“Dude, your ass hangs out of your boxers when you bend over like that, and Dad never forgets to land a couple good ones a little lower, you know?” He watches with some sympathy as Dean grunts and manages to finally pull out the boxers, and switches into the softer fabric. “What the hell did you say to him, anyways?”

“Don’t wanna talk about it.”

Sam shrugs.

Dean spends the rest of the evening contemplating the evils of the stiff jersey shorts, the sandpaper chafe of his bluejeans over the boxers. And at bedtime, there’s the nasty little nubbins that form on old flannel, the chafe of the linen in the sheets when he decides to skip on the pajama pants. Sam watches the fidgeting quietly, with far more understanding than Dean gives him credit for. After all, Sam’s never let on that Dean sometimes spanks harder than Dad does. He just hands Dean a pair of time-softened scrub pants, ones he keeps for when the migraines make him feel like his entire skin is on fire. Dean’s got too much pride to actually thank his baby brother, but the fact that he lets Sam cuddle up gives him away.

Jim’s hard pressed not to laugh the next morning when Sam gets mouthy with John, and gets off with just a warning. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear the younger boy had done it on purpose, says as much to John when both boys have headed outside for a morning run.

“I can always change my mind,” says John. “I was half afraid to ask, did he behave for you when we were gone?”

It takes Jim a minute to quit with the laughter, and wipe a tear away. “He did the best he could, John.”

“So I need to have a word with him?” John’s voice is a grumpy morning growl.

“I didn’t feel I needed to, it’s not necessary, John.”

“Good.” They sit in silence until the boys return, Dean looking tortured. John goes through the morning routine of assigning chores around – he tries to have the boys help him take the burden of household matters off of the hands of whoever they stay with. He’s beside himself when Dean interrupts, though at least the kid’s polite enough about it.”

“Ah, ‘scuze me, Dad? I’ll catch the laundry if you don’t mind.”

He eyes his son with some distrust, but doesn’t object. He usually takes care of that chore himself, but doesn’t mind taking KP duty instead. He puzzles over it, all through washing up the dishes from lunch, and finally decides he might as well just ask. As luck has it, he steps up to the partly closed door of the laundry room just as Dean finishes loading the washer – and sees his boy carefully, tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth with concentration, pouring out a precise, if overabundant amount of fabric softener.

He doesn’t say a word, just slips away, and ten minutes later, he and Jim are near to falling off the porch chairs with laughter.

**Author's Note:**

> Music - Cherry Poppin' Daddies - My Mistake


End file.
